


In this Moment

by lightingitup



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Domestic, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 00:04:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightingitup/pseuds/lightingitup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jade Harley wakes up, and it's a brand new day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In this Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sour/gifts).



> For the Ladystuck Exchange. I reckon I got the best prompt in the entire thing:  
> "Cute girls being cute (redrom) in something calm and domestic, post-sburb where everyone is alive and in a saved universe. Earth or Alternia is your choice. No smut necessary unless you want to (in which case go for it), but it won't allow me to check more than one of these rating boxes."

Jade Harley wakes, reluctantly, to find Nepeta Leijon has once again, in that ever so feline way of hers, taken over the entire bed. Jade is squished up in one little corner, half hanging off the edge; Nepeta’s head is buried in the back of her neck, one leg tangled between both of Jade’s, and the other undoubtedly the only thing in the other half of the bed. It’s too hot on Jade’s island to bother with sheets, fast approaching the point of summer where they’ll need to start walking around in their underwear or risk melting where they stand.

They’ve decided that, while they could probably pull off the ‘pile of goop’ look and still be the sexiest pair of dames on this shiny new Earth, the world just wouldn’t be able to handle such concentrated babe-itude. Luckily, it’s still tank-top-and-tiny-shorts weather, so the world can rest easy.

For now.

The sun has been gradually getting brighter for the last couple of minutes, glaring into Jade’s eyes with a grudge. Soon, she’d have to get up, but she can’t move until –

“Mrrrpphhh,” a voice says, from the region of her neck. “Oh, ickk. Jade, your hair’s in my mouuuth again.”

“And whose fault is that?” Jade grumbles, incoherently to anyone who hasn’t been waking up to those exact words for over a year.

“Grumpy, grumpy,” Nepeta scolds, like clockwork. She sits up, disgustingly cheerful, and Jade manages to raise herself so at least half of her is vertical (y’know, if you round up). Nepeta grins.

“Morning breath kiss!”

She swoops down and back up smoothly, and bounds off to the bathroom for her marathon morning shower. Jade rises, slowly, and makes her way downstairs. By the time Nepeta joins her, she’s managed to make a plate of something resembling pancakes, if you squint a little. Cooking used to be far easier when it was just a matter of turning a couple of dials, but there were far less explosions, so Jade reckons it evens out.

“The furrocious Pouncellor demands an offuring from the amazing Dogtor to appease her angry belly!” Nepeta pats her stomach in emphasis; it makes a hollow, drumming sound. Jade growls and pulls the plate closer to her, setting off a playful fight that starts with Nepeta stealing one of the pancakes off of Jade’s plate with her teeth, and ends with Jade stealing a syrupy kiss from Nepeta’s lips.

Laughing, Nepeta boils some water so she can start messing around with tea blends, and Jade starts working on the rest of her pancakes. She always makes extra.

“Equius is coming ofurr today,” Nepeta reminds Jade. “But we have to find the purrincess’s tiara, so make sure there’s stuff for him to play with so he doesn’t try and tidy again.”

“The poor broom,” says Jade. “Oh, the straws arrived the other day, so he can drink our entire supply of milk without using our mermaid beakers. Tch, ‘too mature for this foolishness’ my incredibly fine butt.”

“Yeah, he loves them really. Silly boy.”

Jade’s pancakes mysteriously vanish, and she retreats upstairs to shower. Nepeta delicately sips her tea, planning her outfit for the day. Pouncellor Leijon and Dogtor Harley, the super attractive and intelligent politician and scientist girlfriend duo, just rescued the princess from the evil squid – but alas! Her diamond tiara has gone missing! So now they must follow the trail of the thief and find where he stashed the loot, or the princess will lose the ability to fire lasers of happiness from her eyes!

They got Rose to help hide the tiara and leave a trail last time she was here. She took great delight in it and spent the rest of the day wearing an evil looking moustache, to enable her to fully assume the role of the villain or something. Jade says she probably just wanted an excuse to dress up and act silly; Nepeta says the world would be a much nicer place if everyone could just wear ridiculous fake moustaches and a swooshy cape whenever they wanted, without feeling like they need an excuse.

Nepeta puts on her Business tie (less is more, after all), and waits by the door for Dogtor Harley to arrive; she does so in her lab coat (decorated with little paw-prints down the side).

“So, Pouncellor, ready to hunt for clues?” Dogtor Harley sticks an elbow out, and Pouncellor Leijon loops an arm through it. Dogtor Harley laughs. “To the tower!”

The tower appears as a couple of boards stacked against a pile of rocks to everyone else – yet, Dogtor Harley and Pouncellor Leijon see it for what it really is: the land base of the dastardly Teuthidor, and his minions! It was here that the princess was kept prisoner; it was here they battled the ferocious Calamari, Teuthidor’s second-in-command; it was here that Sepioid was seen slinking away with the tiara in the chaos from the fight.

“Now,” says Dogtor Harley, wide eyed. “We must hunt for Clues!”

Pouncellor Leijon nods eagerly, and starts looking around, exaggeratingly. “Dogtor, this is no good! It’s been too long; there can’t pawssibly be anything here!”

Dogtor Harley spins around. “Don’t say that!” She takes the Pouncellor’s hands in hers, leaning in until forehead met forehead. “Nothing’s impossible – not when the two of us are together.” She touches Pouncellor Leijon’s cheek lightly with her finger-tips, and presses a gentle kiss to her lips.

Pouncellor Leijon steels herself. “You’re right! If anyone can solve this, it’s us!”

They take a short break from their searching to get over a giggle fit. Pouncellor Leijon investigates the stony wall at the back, while Dogtor Harley takes the dusty floor.

“Could really use the Centaurian’s broom now,” Dogtor Harley mumbles, to Pouncellor Leijon’s snort of laughter.

The Centaurian was the Pouncellor’s moirail; an upstanding chap, who had in the past joined the pair on many of their adventures. Despite his somewhat clumsy brute strength, he cared greatly for the two, loathe to see either of them do anything that might strain their bodies or their dignity. There were rumours that he was heading over to the girls’ location, and perhaps may be persuaded to further aid in the battle against Teuthidor’s forces.

“Ah!” Pouncellor Leijon cries. “I have found a thing!” She waves a piece of the most beautiful paper ever created – a delicate pink colour, with an intricate pattern of iridescent flowers on the borders. On it, in slightly glittery purple ink, is a map.

“Good one,” Dogtor Harley says. She inspects it closely. “Why, Pouncellor! If I am not greatly mistaken, this appears to be a map of our very island!”

“So it is,” says Pouncellor Leijon. “But – oh, Dogtor, the only mark is this circle, yet that is our furry location! The tiara couldn’t be here, we’ve already searched from top to bottom.”

“Hm,” Dogtor Harley puffs out her cheeks. “This _is_ a pickle.”

They pause for a second, unsure of their next action.

“Dogtor,” Pouncellor Leijon says. “Can you smell oranges?”

“Yes, I can… yes, I can! Oh, Pouncellor, you genius!” She kisses the Pouncellor full on the lips. “Orange juice! You’ve cracked it!”

Pouncellor Leijon watches, bemused, as Dogtor Harley pulls the map up to her lips and _breathes_. She shows it to Pouncellor Leijon, triumphant.

“With the power of Science, we can reveal the map’s secrets! Invisible ink, see – you need to warm it up.”

Dogtor Harley breathes and breathes, and presses the paper to her stomach (“Hard at work digesting breakfast, so it should be producing some extra heat.”), until the faint yellow lines start showing crisply against the paper.

“Sepiod’s lair,” Pouncellor Leijon says. “We found it!”

“Thanks to your nose,” says Dogtor Harley.

“And your science!” Pouncellor Leijon replies. This time she’s the one to offer her elbow. “Shall we?”

They manage to walk properly for a couple of minutes, but by the time they hit the trees they’re racing each other. This is their domain, and, for a while, they stop being the kick-ass Dogtor Harley and Pouncellor Leijon, and morph back into Jade and Nepeta.

Jade grew up here, and knows these trees as if they were her family. She jumps between branches, intimately aware of the ones that’ll hold her weight, the ones she can swing from for added height or distance or fun. She hides in the canopy above Nepeta, and tackles her to the ground for an emergency make-out break.

Nepeta is as agile as a cat and as strong as a horse, and takes great delight in flinging herself around like an acrobat, bouncing back easily when a flip goes wrong. She crouches behind a trunk, and leaps on Jade’s back as she runs past. Jade takes it all in her stride, holding onto Nepeta’s legs as she jumps over roots and streams. Nepeta holds on tightly – not out of the fear she’ll fall off – and enjoys the feeling of the wind messing her hair up.

They make it to their destination, slightly damp with sweat.

“We made it, Pouncellor,” Dogtor Harley pants.

They appraise the tree in front of them. It’s the largest on the island. Jade has fond memories of using it as a playhouse (under careful supervision of Bec), but now it is heavily decorated with a long string of purple knitted bunting.

“That looks purromising,” Pouncellor Leijon says.

They approach the tree. On the same paper as the map, there is a simple arrow, pointing up.

Dogtor Harley grins. “Race you to the top?”

Pouncellor Leijon doesn’t answer; she’s already off.

The Pouncellor has the head start, but the Dogtor has a childhood of perfecting the fastest route, so they reach the very top at just about the same time.

“The tiara!” gasps Pouncellor Leijon. “It’s mewtiful!”

 _She’s not wrong_ , Dogtor Harley thinks. Twisted silver strands holding smooth, round diamonds – worthy of a princess. Pouncellor Leijon lowers it onto her head.

“It doesn’t fit ‘round my horns,” she says, frowning.

“It won’t fit over my ears, either, then,” Dogtor Harley with a pout.

Pouncellor Leijon takes Dogtor Harley’s hand. “It’s not like we need happiness laspurrs, anyway.”

Dogtor Harley squeezed her hand in response. “You’re right. Let’s get this thing back to the princess."

Pouncellor Leijon nuzzles her head into the Dogtor’s shoulder. “In a bit.”

The sun is high in the sky, few clouds to shield the girls from its heat. Soon, they will retreat inside, and show their tiara to Equius, who will take the pebble-adorned circle of twigs, tied up with yarn, and offer his assistance on their journey to the princess’s castle. They will share a peaceful afternoon tea, and take a nap, with Nepeta sleeping on Equius, and Jade on Nepeta. They will tell stories; real, fictional, and somewhere between. They’ll do nothing and be everything and need nothing and have everything for the rest of their lives.

But for now, they are just two girls holding hands at the top of the tallest tree on an island in the middle of nowhere, whispering sweet nothings into the horizon.


End file.
